Page 47 of Get Me (The Keatyn Chronicles 6)
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
I run up to the deck and bang on the glass door. A startled woman answers in her robe. "Can I help you?"
"This is the wrong house," Damian says, stating the obvious.
"An old man. Gets up early in the morning and has coffee on his deck. Have you seen him? Do you know where he lives?"
"Mr. Richards lives next door," she says. "Although, come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a few days."
I tear down the stairs, back through the sand to the next house, and then take the stairs up to the deck.
When I bang on this door, a dog barks loudly and comes to the glass.
"Kiki!" Damian and I both yell.
"This is it! They're here!" I scream.
I pick up a ceramic pot from the deck, yell at Kiki to move, and then throw it through the window.
The living room is large and open, cluttered with cameras, sound booms, lighting.
A movie set waiting for me.
"Where's B?" I ask Kiki.
She runs to a bookcase in the living room and spins in a circle. Almost like she's chasing her tail.
"Search all the rooms," Garrett commands, coming in behind us.
Kiki barks and follows him down a hall.
I follow Kiki.
I round the corner to a bedroom and see a man lying on the floor, Garrett bent down next to him.
"This must be the old man who owns the house," Garrett says. "He's dead."
I close my eyes and pray that B's still alive.
Cooper and Damian meet us back in the hall.
"We've been through all the bedrooms down this hall. No one in them," Cooper says.
"Upstairs," Damian suggests, taking off running.
I go back to into the living room and start yelling, "Brooklyn! Brooklyn! Brooklyn!"
Kiki jumps on me, her big paws hitting my thighs and almost knocking me down.
"What is it girl? Do you know where he is?"
She runs back to the first place she took me. The bookshelf.
Only this time, she starts digging and barking.
"B!!" I yell again as I try to figure out what's behind the bookshelf.
A secret room, maybe?
I look for a latch. A button.
And the whole time, I'm yelling for B.
Finally, I put my fingers under the edge of the trim and pull, causing the whole bookcase to swing out toward me and revealing a steel door.
I pull the big handle, but it's locked and won't budge.
I bang on the door as Kiki starts digging and barking.
"B!" I scream, still pounding.
"Garrett, Cooper, Damian! I found a secret door!"
They are rushing back into the living room from different locations when I hear B's faint voice.
"Keats?"
"B! Ohmigawd! Are you okay?"
"Am I in heaven?" he asks.
"What? No. Vincent kidnapped you. He's dead. We've been trying to find you!"
"What about the bomb?"
"What bomb?"
"He said that if he didn't make it back with you, I'd burn."
Garrett goes, "Holy shit. We have to get out of here! Now!"
I turn around to see him staring down in disbelief at what appears to be a briefcase.
"This is a bomb. It's going off in twenty-seven seconds! We've got to get out of here!"
"We have to get B, first!" I yell.
"There's not time," Cooper says, pulling me toward the door. "If we don't leave now, we're all going to die."
The scene is surreal.
Looking like a movie set, but feeling way too real.
Damian and I share a look.
"You go. I'll stay with Brook," he says bravely. "Maybe it won't go off."
"No!" I yell as both Garrett and Cooper try to drag me out the front door.
Damian says, "Tell Peyton I love her."
My eyes fill with tears as Cooper pulls me closer to the door.
"No!" I scream.
I can't believe after everything we've been through that it's going to end this way.
My body goes limp in defeat.
As it does, a single word pops into my head.
The same word from the beach.
Ashes.
And I immediately know what I have to do.
I push Cooper against the wall and shove Garrett out of the way.
I run back to the bomb, see there are twelve seconds left, slam the briefcase lid shut, grab the handle, and take off with it.
I hear shouts of protest coming from behind me, but I ignore them.
00:11
Sprint across the living room as my life flashes before my eyes.
Floating in the waves. Salt. Sand. Freedom.
00:10
Crash through the broken window to the deck.
A hand on mine. Keats poetry. Sadness. Ribbit.
00:09
Run across the deck.
Pink blanketed bundles. Thirty perfect stubby fingers. The softest hair ever.
00:08
Hurdle a chaise blocking my way.
Fall leaves. Old Bricks. Green grass. Feeling safe.
00:07
Unlatch the gate.
A flash of green. Heartbreak. Love.
00:06
Bound down the stairs.
Tie-d
yed tutu. Ballet shoes. A handsome grin.
00:05
Tear through the sand.
Hammock blowing in the breeze. Three little words. Happy tears.
00:04
Feel the ocean rush onto my feet.
Stacks of hay. Cowboy boots. Lemonade.
00:03
Swing the briefcase back.
Ferris wheel. An arm on my shoulder. A perfect kiss.
00:02
Fling it into the ocean with all my might.
Stranglehold hugs. Baby powder and chocolate. Falling asleep in my arms.
00:01
Turn around and run like hell straight into Damian and beat feet back toward the house.
Shining lights. An audience. Performing.
00:00
An explosion knocks us both into the sand.
Blond hair. A hug. Lavender, honeysuckle, and the ocean.
Fish, water, and seaweed rain down on me.
I push myself up off the sand, ignoring my protesting body. Damian looks a bit dazed, but Kiki licks my face.
"Holy fuck, Keats! I can't believe you just did that. You're fucking nuts."
I ignore him and say, "Let's go, Kiki!"
As we run into the house together, the police and firemen arrive.
But I don't care.
They aren't moving fast enough.
What if there's another bomb in the room with B?
One we don't know about?
It could go off at any second.
"B!" I scream, pushing through the firemen who are discussing the best way to get through the steel door.
"Did the bomb just go off?" he asks.
"Yes, I threw it in the ocean."
"It shook the room so hard there's drywall dust everywhere."
"Drywall dust? Where?"
"Looking at the door, it's on my right."
I shove through whoever all these people are. At this point, I don't care.
I have but one goal.
Get to B.
I.
Have.
To.
Get.
To.
Him.
Working my way around the corner from the steel door, I find a bedroom.
And on the wall surrounding the room is a closet.
I throw the doors open, grab the clothes hanging there, and toss them out of my way.
Kiki starts digging and barking, her claws marking the drywall and spraying up dust.
"That's it, Kiki. Good girl. Good girl!"
I pay attention to where the screws are in the rack holding up the bar, assume that's where the studs are, and use my fist to start punching the drywall in between them.
I punch as hard as I can.
The drywall crumples but I can't break through.
